Fragrance
by Neko-chan -Silvered Tongue
Summary: For RM [YBxR] So many names, so many misconceptions... Ryou encounters a vampire quite different from the common 'pop' culture stereotype. After all, not ALL vampires drink blood.


Fragrance  
  
By: Neko-chan  
  
A/N: I wanted to write a vampire fic, but I wanted to make my vampire fic unique. There are so many clichés in fanfiction—I wanted to make something that would be my own. Sooo... this was born. ^^;;  
  
Just a little bit of background information: There are many stories about vampires in almost all of the cultures in the world. Some of the stories say that the vampire has a physical body—other stories tell that vampires are spirits, relatives of elementals. This story takes that view; this story is a vampire story... but with an interesting twist to it. =^^=  
  
Written for RM  
  
WARNING: Yami no Bakura/Ryou – shounen-ai  
  
DISCLAIMER: ...eh? Do you honestly think that I own Yuugiou? *snorts derisively* ... And I won't claim the title of this fic as my own, either, because it's actually one of Gackt's songs. *pets her Japanese singer* D  
  
* * *  
  
"if you are near to the dark  
  
I will tell you 'bout the sun  
  
you are here, no escape  
  
from my visions of the world  
  
you will cry all alone  
  
but it does not mean a thing to me"  
  
- "aura" -- Yuki Kajiura  
  
The shadows were gilded in silver, sparkling softly at the edges of his vision. Ryou Bakura flipped up the collar to his coat, shivering slightly. It was a chilly night, one of the very few nights left before the summer solstice. It wasn't supposed to be cold, but the weather had been acting strange lately—lots of light rain, lots of fog, and lots of sudden gusts of wind that tore open a person's coat lapels, darting in to brush against their body in a caress that was tinted with the smell of the graveyard.  
  
It was an unwelcoming scent—and one that frightened him, as well.  
  
He shrugged his shoulders, settling the jacket more snugly about himself. Broadening his stride, he quickly darted from one streetlamp's pool of light to another, eyes quickly scanning the area about him. He may have been scared—but that left no excuse for being stupid or careless. Before his father had left for another excavation in Egypt, he had made sure that Ryou knew the basic self-defense maneuvers. Remembering the lessons, Ryou smiled slightly—he hardly ever got the chance to see his father. It was always a pleasure spending time with him. The fact that his father took the self-defense lessons with him had made that time all that much more special. He had become an apt pupil; besides that, Ryou had also made his father proud. That one small fact made the hours of lessons seem... worthwhile.  
  
A soft whisper rode upon the wind and Ryou paused briefly, head tilted to one side as he listened.  
  
...there was nothing.  
  
Shaken from his reverie, Ryou began to pay closer attention to his surroundings, ignoring the warm feeling that the self-defense lessons produced; his gaze was sharp and he quickened his pace, intent on reaching his home all that much sooner.  
  
Another whisper, malevolent and cruel, followed him as he made his way from pool of light to pool of light.  
  
As Ryou came ever closer towards the suburbs of the city, intent on leaving the darkness of the alleys and run-down buildings of the downtown far behind, he passed by a set of hunting, hungry eyes—mahogany eyes, touched with the color of blood. The eyes watched as he left its domain... and then smiled softly, sparkling with a dark light.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Ryou stepped through the doorway of his house, breathing a sigh of relief, and he reached for the light switch, flicking it up. The small house immediately lighted with a soft, buttery glow, welcoming its owner home. The teenage boy smiled and hung his coat in the closet that was located next to the doorway, expertly running his hands over the folds of cloth, making sure that it would not wrinkle while tucked away. It was good to be home—he had felt as if he had been watched all evening and the feeling had receded once he had stepped into his house.  
  
And yet...  
  
And yet...  
  
The feeling hadn't completely gone away. Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his mind, he could still feel his skin crawl with the feeling that only came about when a person was being watched—being hunted, so to speak. To quote from his American pen-pal, it gave him the "creeps."  
  
Once the coat was finally tucked away, his tennis shoes were discarded and left next to the door. The house was warm—stifling so—compared to the chill of the night that he had just left. Ryou made his way through the house, snapping on the air conditioner as he passed it, and finally slipped into his room. The lights from the house didn't reach the darkness of the bedroom, so he reached towards the light switch and flipped the button up.  
  
The room was filled with light for a brief moment—then the bulb flared, flickered, and died. "Dang it...." Ryou muttered unhappily as he stared up forlornly at the light fixture mounted on his ceiling. As if it was mocking him, it flickered again, looked as if it would revive... and then died for the last and final time. The teenaged boy muttered darkly and gave up, shedding his shirt and pants as he went into his dark room. He tossed the dirty clothes in his hamper and rooted about in his clothes drawer for a clean shirt and boxers to wear to bed.  
  
Once again, he never noticed the pair of watching eyes hidden within the shadows of his room. They glowed for a long moment, then slowly vanished from sight.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
He knew that he was dreaming.  
  
Yet... with the cold dungeon room surrounding him, smothering him in its presence, the dream felt all too real. The chill from the stone floor seeped up through his feet and Ryou shivered; drops of water fell from the corner of the ceiling, a sound that was ever present in this dank, dark space.  
  
"So you're finally awake?"  
  
Ryou started in surprise, and turned around quickly. His gaze was met with a pair of neutral brown eyes; eyes that reminded him of his father's cherry wood desk that had always been in the study as long as the boy could remember. Dark wood, brown wood—yet wood that contained a reddish tint, making it all that much more beautiful. Ryou's gaze trailed over the other's face—razor-sharp features, cruelty tipped in ice.  
  
The other smiled slightly at him, the corners of his mouth rising up in amusement that only he felt. "So, you're finally awake," this time it was a statement.  
  
The teenage boy paused for a long moment, then finally asked: "Who are you?"  
  
His head tilted forward, that small smile still clinging to the other's lips. "Why? Does my name really and truly matter? I am who I am—and I do not need a name."  
  
Ryou's eyes narrowed. His father often sent him riddles and puzzles from the Egyptian tombs that he excavated. What the other had just said—it sounded too much like one of the riddles that his father sent him to solve. With that in mind, he rephrased his question: "What are you?"  
  
The red-eyed person narrowed his eyes—he hadn't expected the boy to ask that particular question, picking up on the subtleties of the conversation. It was a form of give and take: You had to know what to ask in order to take; in order to take, you needed to know what to ask; and, you needed to know what you were asking for in order to take. A complex mode of communication, filled with hidden meanings and various nuances. Yet... the boy had quickly picked up on that aspect of the conversation. The other frowned, annoyed. "I am what your people once called a 'child of the night.' Now...." He shrugged slightly, eyes dancing in amusement at the confusion that he caused.  
  
The silver-haired boy stepped back, eyeing the other as he rubbed the outer parts of his arms with his chilled hands. The other... unnerved him. He asked a rather direct question and received a rambling tangent as his answer. For some reason, the other also scared him, though he had made no threatening movements toward Ryou. The silence in the dungeon felt like the calm before the storm—what storm, he didn't know.  
  
The other stepped forward, eyes still dancing wickedly. "Dream Master, Dream Eater, Soul Stealer... Demon, Dark Angel, Faerie, Incubus, Vampire—take your pick of the names that I've been called all throughout the years. They mean nothing to me—and probably everything to you."  
  
Wide eyes stared at the darker persona. "V... vampire? You're a vampire?"  
  
The vampire laughed, tossing his own silver hair over his shoulder as he did so. His eyes glittered and he smiled, revealing delicately pointed canine teeth. With the expression upon his face, he reminded Ryou of a cat—a cat that had just snatched a canary from its cage.  
  
"Humans are so amusing—you must always give something a label to make it tangible, to make it real. True, I was called a vampire a long while ago, but...." he trailed off, still smiling darkly.  
  
Ryou took another step backwards, his hand unconsciously coming up to cover the small of his neck. The other's gaze followed his hand's movement, and the smile deepened. Once Ryou felt as if there was enough space between him and the 'creature,' he prompted: "But....?"  
  
Still continuing to grin, the other stepped closer to Ryou, slowly fading away into the shadows that permeated the dungeon. Ryou gasped in surprise when the vampire vanished completely from view. "But... so often, you humans adopt the misconception of popular culture, adapting your views to that of television, fiction, and society. You've forgotten that almost every culture in this world has legends about vampires—and not every type of vampire is a blood-sucking fiend."  
  
His breath whispered over Ryou's skin and the boy yipped in surprise, about to dart forward, away from the vampire who had suddenly appeared behind him. The other grabbed onto the back of Ryou's shirt with his left hand, digging his fingers into the soft, cotton material. The cloth gave way a little bit, ripping where his fingers were. The other hand reached around Ryou's body, grasping the boy by this throat.  
  
"Some of us..." he continued, murmuring against the alabaster of Ryou's skin, "Some of us are nothing but spirits ourselves and live by leeching off of a person's soul. Your life becomes ours and we live through you. You are our host. And we? ...we are nothing more than parasites feeding off of another life."  
  
Ryou swallowed audibly, heartbeat thrumming against the other's hold upon his throat. He closed his eyes and whispered, "Will I become your new host?"  
  
The 'vampire' laughed and tightened his hold on Ryou. His fingers dug into the skin below Ryou's jaw and the silver-haired boy whimpered in pain. "Host, landlord, yes. You'll become all of these and more. When I'm through with you, you'll be nothing more than a dry, empty husk; lifeless and dull, with no spirit left to fill your every waking moment. You'll be mine and mine alone."  
  
"I don't want to die," Ryou whispered around the other's grasp upon him, quietly beginning to cry. The other pressed himself up against Ryou's back, turning the boy's head so that his pale cheek was presented to him. A soft pink tongue quickly lapped up the tears that Ryou cried, purring in pleasure.  
  
"Die? No, you won't die," the other whispered in the boy's ear once he was finally finished. "No, you'll just be left without a soul. You're going to be delicious."  
  
~Owari~  
  
::End::  
  
A/N: Written for RM because she wanted a non-clichéd vampire fic. Looking back... I don't think I was able to accomplish that particular wish. ^^;; Sorry?  
  
Written for myself because I wanted to try my hand at a vampire fic, but... with a different perspective on things. Also written for myself because I've just finished 'Moon Child' (a movie that stars Gackt and HYDE with HYDE as a vampire~~) and so I was in the mood to write a vampire fic. The movie? Totally awesome. *nods* (Subliminal Message: You must go out and buy 'Moon Child'~ You must go out and buy 'Moon Child'~ You must go out and buy 'Moon Child'~)  
  
Also... Yes, what Yami no Bakura said was true: Almost every single culture in this world have legends about vampires. And yes, not all legends contain blood-sucking vampires. Some of them really do drink/eat souls. [Ever heard of the term 'psychic vampire'? *grins* If you're interested in the supernatural, you should have.] Anyway, so, yes~ This particular fic had a vampire—Yami no Bakura—but he was a soul eating vampire, rather than a blood drinking one. And yes~ For those of you who are familiar with the subbed version of Yuugiou and the fact that Yami no Bakura calls Ryou Bakura yadonushi ['host'], I left that element in this story on purpose. XD 


End file.
